Warm
by Lia-Osaka92
Summary: "Since I first saw you I thought you were like… an ice prince. Or a winter fairy." One-shot, fluffy, sleepy Victuri cuddling


"Warm." His mind is too clouded by blissful drowsiness to filter the thought, and the word leaves his lips in a soft whisper before he can stop it, breathed against moonlight pale skin and another body that lies flushed next to his and shivers ever the slightest, as if it had been caressed by his voice.

"What was that?"

He grows self-conscious then, and pretends he didn't hear any inquiry, burying his nose in tender flesh that just minutes ago he'd been kissing pink and red and purple.

"I know you're still awake, Yuuri." The arm that's draped around his shoulders, holding him close and safe, traces fingers up his spine. His skin tingles like it did the first time, like it always does, like every little touch he can get from those hands is pure magic (and in a corner of his mind, he's sure it is).

He groans, displeased, hoping to get the subject dropped, although he knows the battle's long lost. "It was nothing." He tries, anyway. "It's late, Victor, we should sleep."

Victor hums. "Indulge me one last time for tonight?" he offers, his voice melodic and clear, and Yuuri wants to retort that he's indulged him more than enough for one night, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been on the receiving end of plenty indulgence himself. "Please, _Yuuri_?" besides, Victor is terribly, terribly unfair, and Yuuri is terribly, terribly weak. To that voice calling his name, to those fingers leaving traces of magic on his skin.

"I was just thinking…" he ignores the burn on his cheeks and breathes, willing the embarrassment away. "you're… warm." His voice is muffled by Victor's own body where he's buried his face. It's a simple, foolish thing, but his heart has skipped a beat nonetheless because saying this kind of things out loud always does that to him.

"Oho? That's a—" Victor winces when Yuuri jabs his ribs with three fingers, but he gets the message. Now that Yuuri's started talking, he's going to let him finish, and then Yuuri can dissolve away in embarrassment like he always does.

"I always thought you'd be cold… That your hands and… your body" _and maybe your heart too_ "… would feel as cold as ice."

He drapes an arm over Victor's torso and lets his fingers trace something akin to compulsory figures over his abdomen. Victor stays quiet, probably knows Yuuri has more to say (he _always_ knows), but his breathing hitches on an inhale, and Yuuri takes enough pride in that little reaction to continue.

"When you're on the ice, it's as if you were born _from_ it. You move like it's easier for you to glide on the rink than out of it. And your… hair and your skin and your _eyes_ …" _especially the eyes_ "Since I first saw you I thought you were like… an ice prince. Or a winter fairy."

He remembers once, many years ago, he'd had a dream of Victor wearing a white gold crown adorned with sapphires atop his cascade of silver hair, growing a pair of crystal blue wings, snow falling down from his fingertips as he spun on the ice, and then he turned to look at Yuuri, reached out to him with his hand, beckoning him to join him in his dance. And when Yuuri did, his skin was cold, and his touch drained all the warmth from Yuuri's body. And yet, he couldn't count the times he'd gone to sleep wishing to see that dream again.

"So for a long time I imagined you would feel… cold." He knows this is terribly meaningless, but after Victor prodded so much, he felt he had to say it –all of it- out loud. "But now I know that's… not the case." He still won't meet Victor's eyes, even if he can almost feel the warmth and affection in them prickling his skin.

"Yuuri." The same warmth and affection that laces into Victor's voice every time he says his name, like it's the most beautiful word he has ever spoken. " _Yuuri_."

And because of that Yuuri can never resist the pull of that voice that calls to him like the freezing cold hand in that distant dream. He finally looks up, and as expected, finds those ice blue eyes, so paradoxically warm, completely fixed on him, like there is nothing else worth looking at in the entire world. When Victor calls his name, when Victor looks at him, Yuuri feels so overwhelmingly _loved_ he doesn't know what to do with himself.

"If only you knew, Yuuri…" it's an exhale, soft and delicate, as if Victor were afraid of shattering this moment, and he grabs Yuuri's wrist, the hand that was still painting invisible curves on Victor's skin, and presses the flat of his palm to his chest, where Yuuri can clearly feel his steady heartbeat and the warmth that seems to blossom from the place where skin meets skin. "It's because of you. This warmth, you gave it to me. You give it to me every day."

Victor is smiling, that one smile that Yuuri knows is meant only for him to see, only for him to kiss. Something special surges in his chest, something that is new and at the same time isn't, like loving Victor has always been. He feels himself smile too and with his free hand, touches Victor's cheek lightly.

"Oh. Well then, if you don't want to freeze to death, I suggest you stay close to me from now on."

Yuuri watches Victor's smile widen, he's _glowing_ with mirth and Yuuri closes his eyes, kisses Victor's smile, melts into this warmth they share. And if he feels Victor's heart flutter under his palm, he says nothing, for his does too.


End file.
